


Collaborative Poetry

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Series: Genji/Angela [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cock Worship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I had...a lot of fun writing this, Maledom/Femsub, Marriage, Pile Driver, Poetry, White Day, lots of poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: It’s White Day, and Genji’s turn to pamper Angela. He’s not much of a cook, but happens to be quite a wordsmith! Perhaps Angela will enjoy some poetry to mark this special occasion? If nothing else, it’s sure to get her in the mood for some sweet, sweet loving!





	Collaborative Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> Happy White Day! Here's a follow-up to the [story I posted for Valentine's Day last month](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785061). This one's got some poetry, and other assorted Genji/Angela goodness!

“Angela, do you know what day it is?”

She looked up from her book, glancing over her glasses at Genji. Her husband was blocking her light, casting a shadow where the afternoon sun should have been streaming through the window of their home. But she did not castigate him: she’d been eagerly awaiting this day, too.

“Indeed I do, Genji. It’s a month, to the day, after Valentine’s Day. I’d say we had an eventful February.”

Genji laughed and allowed a broad smile to spread across his features. “Quite, Angela. And I fondly recall the apples you baked for me. I was hoping to return the favor.” His tone dropped an octave into throaty rumble she knew so well. He wanted to act in the spirit of the holiday, and that meant flirting. She could play along with his act.

“Ah, yes! It’s White Day, isn’t it?” She wasn’t as familiar with the Japanese tradition as Genji, but she knew that it involved a reversal of the gift-giving that had happened on Valentine’s Day. She’d given him the gift then, so it was his turn now to the same.

“Indeed! Now, please don’t get up. This gift is, shall we say…” He coughed and adjusted the collar of his shirt, face slightly flushed, and tapped his fingers nervously against his pant leg. “Something that doesn’t require you to get up.” His nervousness was clearly exaggerated, but she couldn’t bring herself to ignore the hint of genuine anxiety beneath his overblown franticness.

“Genji, are you well?”

“I’m fine, Angela, just a little bit skittish. I’ve never given this kind of present before.”

Angela was glad he wasn’t wearing his mask, or really any part of his suit besides the essentials. She knew him well enough to read his body language, but the flashes of nervousness in his face were genuine. So, without rising, she leaned forward, setting her book aside the couch, and gave him a comforting smile.

“ _Liebling_ , I am certain it is excellent. I’m looking forward to whatever it is! So please, no need to worry.” He usually wasn’t this flustered. Genji must have done something quite unusual for today to prompt this much trepidation. Thankfully, her words seemed to be what he needed, and he let loose a breath he’d been holding.

“All right, Angela. Here goes…” Reaching a hand into his pants pocket, Genji pulled out a heavily folded piece of paper, slowly unfurling it and clearing his throat. He paused and grinned sheepishly.

“Please don’t laugh.”

‘I can assure you that I won’t—”

_“There is a bond between us most true,_

_That gave us both life anew._

_A woman I love,_

_Fits with me like a glove,_

_That woman, Angela, is you.”_

Genji let the words hang between them for a long moment, hands still clutching the paper that he’d read from. Angela blinked, and didn’t stop herself from smiling.

“Genji! A poem, for me? _Danke_!” She clapped her hands together and grinned even more broadly. “I did not realize you had an interest in poetry!”

The little game they’d been playing with tone fell by the wayside as Genji returned her smile and nodded. “Not so much in my younger days, but Zenyatta has given me some instruction. He is an excellent poet.”

“I imagine! Thank you, Genji. That was a fantastic gift.”

“ _Was_ ?” Genji quirked an eyebrow and tilted the paper towards Angela: should could see quite a few more lines written down than he’d spoken. “I’m not done yet, Angela. For a day _this_ significant, I have several more poetic treats for you to enjoy. Allow me to continue.”

He paused and cleared his throat as Angela remained at attention. She adored theater, and this sort of performance was one she hoped to see more of in the future. “Ahem. This one is a bit longer, so pardon my pauses.”

_“‘You’ve rescued me again, Doctor Ziegler’,_

_I mean that in more ways than one._

_There are many that you might infer,_

_But you shall know by the time I am done.”_

Genji stopped, licking his lips and flitting his gaze back and forth from the page to Angela’s eyes. She smiled and nodded. “Very good! Please, continue.”

_“Not simply my physical body,_

_For I am grateful for so much more._

_Although it may be a statement most naughty,_

_My features_ do _offer you much to adore.”_

Angela felt a flush rise to her cheeks. He couldn’t mean...no, really? She opened her mouth to inquire, but he was already off on the next quatrain.

_“I reflect on these years together ,_

_The path that has joined us thus far,_

_Two birds of the same feather,_

_A binding that defines who we are.”_

_“So this White Day, Angela, I implore,_

_That you remain with me forever more.”_

Genji allowed himself to indulge in a bow as his sonnet’s impact rested heavy in the air, even after he’d finished, and Angela clapped and whooped.

“Excellent! Oh, Genji, that was beautiful. How long did that take you to compose?”

Genji stayed bowed, speaking towards the floor. “Longer than I would like to admit, but shorter than such a piece probably deserved. I admit, that was stiffer than I had expected. Shakespearean sonnets can...drag on a bit. I wasn’t repeating myself too much near the end?”

“Genji, it was wondrous. And even if it did cycle, what matters is that you _cared_.” Angela tapped her foot on the ground from her seated position, prompting Genji to look back up at his wife. “You wanted to give me something that you were invested in making, and that means a great deal to me. Thank you.”

“Angela…” Genji stepped towards her, free hand outstretched to take hers and bring her up to his eye-level. He didn’t need to speak as he met her lips in a kiss, feeling her smile against his own, her soft breaths puffing against his cheeks as they embrace each other in more ways than one. There was a serenity to each other’s touch, a calm that suffused through them, knowing that the other was there and so close.

He pulled away, still holding her hand, the paper having fallen to the floor so he could grasp her shoulder. “I had another idea. Not something I planned, but being here with you made me think it’d be fun.”

“Oh?” Angela tilted her head at Genji, letting him step away from her, fingers still intertwined.

“You’ve heard of haiku, right?”

“Of course.” Angela’s thoughts took off at the idea that he was about to serenade her with a haiku. She’d never heard him perform poetry before today, but she was already giddily imagining Genji flowing and forming words into beauty in simple, five-seven-five syllable verses.

“I could create one for you, but I thought of something that might make it even more enjoyable. Haikus are originally _hokku_ , intended as merely the opening verses of _renga_ , collaborative poetry. So…” He trailed off and let her catch his meaning. When recognition glinted in her eyes, he continued. “Would you like to try to make something beautiful together, Angela?”

“Would I?” She laughed and stroked his hair, nuzzling forward against his cheek. “I would adore the opportunity, _liebling_. How do we start?”

“Well, I give you the expected haiku, five-seven-five, and you give me two lines with seven syllables each. And repeat. We can swap starters every so often, if you’d like.”

“Easy enough. Is that all?”

“Well, no.” Genji bit his lower lip and squeezed her hand and shoulder a little more tightly. “My ‘haiku’ doesn’t actually _need_ to be five-seven-five. It just needs seventeen syllables across three lines.”

“That’s...confusing, but I follow for now.”

“And also, your response needs to be referring to the offering before. So, if we’re on the seventh repetition, you can only refer to my seventh set of three lines, and on my eighth start, I can only refer to your seventh response to my seventh stanza. It’s...confusing.” He conceded, pecking her on the chin. “But it’s supposed to keep it as a set of flowing stories, rather than a jump from spot to spot.”

“So, like improvisational acting?” Angela queried, her lips drifting over his nose. “We roll with what we’re prompted with, rather than shutting each other down?”

A smile from her husband. “E _xactly_. Now, can I go first?”

“Of course.”

Genji took a deep breath and a step away from his wife, and spoke.

“I must warn you, I am terrible at this.”

“Me too. Let’s be terrible together.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He chuckled.

_“Gold-haired glory,_

_Lustrous and truly lovely,_

_Angela Ziegler.”_

If he was going to be sappy about this, he was going to go all-out. She had to act in kind, but she couldn’t jump to him just yet. She had to respond to his verse, to play with the rules.

“ _Doctor blessed with life and love,_

 _Modest, despite her husband_.”

She’d trapped him now. He _had_ to respond with something referencing himself.

_“Savior to all she touches with her light,_

_One who earns adoration.”_

_Clever_ Genji. Angela would need to be more cunning with her wordplay. But this was very enjoyable.

_“And more than anything else, a giver,_

_Treasuring what grace she sees_.”

Clumsy, clumsy, _clumsy_. She’d made it about herself again. Now he’d capitalize on it.

_“Tense, turning, taut and tangled tight,_

_In some distress,_

_She seeks an end to this.”_

Oh, that rotten—

_“Frustrated despite her calm,_

_Tiring of this dodging man.”_

Genji opened his mouth to respond, couldn’t stop himself. His face scrunched up into a mixture of a snort and a smile, and he guffawed into his shoulder with what sounded like a sneeze, but she knew he was just trying not to laugh. She fell to pieces at the sight, falling forward to giggle against Genji’s shoulder.

They chuckled against each other, comforted by the other’s weight, finally coming to their senses as she wiped her eyes and nose on his shirt. Not very romantic, but he was doing the same, and one messy turn deserved another.

“That was good.” Genji managed to stumble out the words. “Bickery, but we kept the spirit of it up. Would you like to start now?”

“Of course. A moment, please.” Angela was still clearing the laughter out of her system, unsure if she could put the thought to verse until she’d recovered fully. It took another few giggles, but she managed to get herself under control while Genji waited patiently, letting her laugh into his shoulder.

“Ready?” She finally managed to speak. When he nodded, she found her confidence returning, the verse spilling out without a waver.

_“Green and silver grace,_

_Lithe, dangerous, powerful_

_Here reformed and wise.”_

Genji was impressed. She’d gotten into the swing of things rather well. Now he needed to answer her prompt, and he had just the right idea.

_“A bad boy, and then gone rogue,_

_Enlightened, absolved.”_

_“Happiness found here,_

_And...um…serenity achieved...wait...”_

She trailed off and shared a long, awkward stare with Genji. He was expecting her to finish her verse, to continue the story and their collaboration.

Angela couldn’t bring herself to finish it. The stumbling block, the barrier in the roll she’d found, had shattered her focus, and she burst into laughter yet again. Leaning forward into Genji, she howled and cried, evidence of her hilarity echoing throughout the room. Genji fell apart with her, his giggles growing into yowls and peals of laughter until they were both born down to the ground, her atop him, mingling in their joy and happiness.

When they finally found themselves able to speak again, after no small amount of snorting, sniffling, and tangled limbs, they’d managed to work their way back to the couch Angela had been reading on when this had all started, her now draped over him as he rested his head on the armrest.

“It’s harder than I thought.” Angela murmured, eyes red with her mirth-induced crying, hands drifting across Genji’s covered stomach. “It needs a lot of focus, and if there’s a single stumble, you have to start all over.”

“That’s part of the appeal.” Genji let his hands tangle in her hair. “Collaborative poetry is best when a specific path isn’t the goal. Instead of trying to ‘game’ the system, letting it drift naturally into a tale is the smoothest course.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Pity we couldn’t stick with that.”

“Don’t worry, Angela. There will be more opportunities.”

“Mmm.” Angela nodded against his chest, breathing softly, feeling his breath beneath her.

“Angela?”

“Yes, Genji?”

“I also got you some chocolates. And yes, they’re swiss. They’re in the kitchen. Only the best for the woman who gave me such delightful _honmei-choco_ one month ago.”

Angela snapped upright, beaming and smiling, clasping her hands together, then letting them fall onto his thighs. If he could have captured any one moment of that day, it would have been the pure, complete joy Angela personified in that moment, everything alive and bright with the vigor of a woman who knew she was loved. As she leaned forward, Genji whispered one more time before their enclosed lips robbed each other of speech.

“Happy White Day, Angela.”

He lost track of time, enfolded in her lips on his, their bodies atop each other. At last, Angela pulled away, panting and smiling, and whispered back.

“And a happy White Day to you, too. Now...even though it’s supposed to be a day where _you’re_ pampering _me_ , I think _mein lieber_ has earned more than a small reward from his dear, darling, and now desperately _horny_ wife, especially with how well he can weave words together. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Genji felt his cheeks warm as Angela’s fingers traced along the line of his chin, the content in her face shifting to something more excited. The mood had very, very suddenly jolted from wholesomely loving to, well, still loving, still decidedly wholesome, but certainly with a _zing_ of naughtiness. Not that he was complaining as Angela bit her lip and whispered towards his ear.

“You've gotten me rather riled up with your silver tongue, Genji. Would you like to take the reins more directly, and order me about _however_ you want? My mouth might be useful for something other than poetry...”

His felt himself stiffen, both in his spine...and deep in his dick. If she was _really_ going to be all right with him taking charge…

“Get off.” He was surprised at the force in his tone, but Angela clearly wasn’t bothered, immediately extricating herself from him and standing before him on the couch. He weighed his options...he wanted to be in her, _now_ , but if she was serious about this, he wanted her to prove it.

“Take my cock out.” The tawdry word pierced the last barrier protecting the mostly-chaste activities of before, bringing them fully into the mood of the here and now, the arousal that they knew heralded something phenomenal.

She knelt, and he held out a hand to stop her. “Actually, take off your top first. Jeans on, though. I like the way they hug your ass, Angela.”

“Of course, Genji.” Angela couldn’t disguise the stutter in her voice that told him how aroused she was. Her face was certainly as flushed as he figured he had to be, and she fastened her fingers beneath her shirt, pulling up with a grunt, her breasts catching on the bottom and bouncing as they were forced up. Tossing it aside, she jutted out her chest, fluffing her breasts with her hands, sinking her fingers in where she could and running them over where she couldn’t. Angela’s tits were full enough that they almost seemed to struggle against her bra, the fabric pressing against her skin as if it could barely hold it.

Good. Genji wanted Angela to feel that pressure driving her on while she attended to him.

Spreading his legs to either side of her shoulders, Genji scooted forward until his crotch was hanging off the coach. Lifting his hips, he pointed to his pants, a silent command for Angela to continue. She followed his direction with gusto, latching her teeth around the waistband of his pants and leaning back to pull them down. If she hadn’t expected his dick to smack her in the face when she crested his pelvis, she didn’t show it, merely stopping to let the hefty length rest on her face, the head of Genji’s cock on her brow, her teeth near the base, still gripping his pants.

Genji had gotten into the habit of undoing the latch on his crotch when he was wearing pants: it’s not like his genitals would be visible through his clothing, at least most of the time, so the freedom was welcome. And it certainly meant that Angela got to skip a step in the process, even if slowly revealing his dick was part of the joy.

She seemed starstruck for a moment, continuing to linger on having his dick on her face. Genji would have been happy for her to stay there all day and all night, frozen in admiration of the dick that had taken her in every hole, every which way, but he was looking for something more strenuous. Tapping her shoulder, he let her know that, no, his pants weren’t going down by themselves. She returned to the realm of reality, dutifully lowering herself and pulling his pants with her, until at last she released them and they dropped around his cybernetic ankles, her face below his balls.

Angela loved Genji with all of her being. But when he was being dominant like this, there was something about him that just...clicked. Even more than usual, his dick seemed to command her attention and compel her to suck it, lick it, mouth it, _worship_ it. Genji’s balls, too, were so full of cum and promise, the reassurances that, yes, at the end of all this she’d be gifted with his hot, virile cream many times over, as she had been so many times before. When they were like this, she just had to consider: what more could she want in life, or at least in this moment, than to exalt in the glory that was Genji’s cock?

Not a lot, she realized, and Genji was looking down at her so very expectantly, his gaze commanding but tender, expectant but respectful. Angela couldn’t let him down. Her core warmed and she longed to feel him inside her, but he had more immediate needs that needed attending. So she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cockhead, pursing them into a kiss, enclosing them on the thick, gorgeous tip of his length that had driven her to madness and will-shattering orgasms so many times. The kiss she planted was light, delicate, a ghost across the head of Genji’s cock, but Angela knew he’d want more.

She leaned her head to the side to latch her mouth around the width of him, golden hair pooling down over her eyes, but she didn’t stop looking up at her husband. Genji’s gaze, so cool, so confident, told her everything she needed to know without him saying a word aloud.

 _Good. You’re doing well_.

Pride began to swell deep in Angela’s chest, although that may have just been her growing arousal at the feeling Genji’s magnificent length so close to her, and the memory of how many times she’d enjoyed how he used it. It just seemed wrong to _not_ devote herself wholly to it with her mouth, trailing kisses down along the side and watching how he reacted. Every little bite on Genji’s lip, every quiver in his eyebrow, every tensing of his jaw told her that she was properly worshipping him, and he wanted more.

Thankfully, she was happy to provide. Especially since she knew how she’d be rewarded.

Her lips, drifting kisses further down Genji’s shaft, finally met the base, her nose brushing against the pubic hair curling at his crotch. Withdrawing her mouth, she allowed herself a moment to take in all the _Genji_ that was there. The tickle of his hair on her skin, the sound of him breathing above her, the salt of his length on her lips, the thick cock awaiting her attention. And, most of all, the smell, the heady, masculine fragrance that Genji’s crotch would sometimes be left with if his suit was on for a long time. It wasn’t a _bad_ smell: far from it. For Angela, though, his sweat took on an entirely new meaning, with all the intricacies and delightful details that implied. Slightly sweet, slightly salty, certainly heavy and musky, for Angela, it was _heavenly_. Mostly because she only was exposed to it when she knew she was about to slurp, lick, swallow and suck on Genji’s dick, the man that gave off that arousing aroma.

So Angela buried her nose where it was deepest, in the folds of skin at Genji’s scrotum, letting the waves of it wash over her and carry away all rational thoughts other than the need to _honor_ it, to _serve_ it, to make its owner feel as good as possible. The surrender was, in and of itself, empowering, a way for Angela to release her cares and worries and focus on something she knew she could accomplish without fail. She was blessed with a great many skills—as an impeccable doctor, a charismatic conversationalist, an amiable friend, a loving wife, a sharp-tongued snarker when she needed to be—and Genji valued all of them. But in moments like these none were so useful as her ability to service her husband’s cock.

Angela was lost in the flow of sweat and salt and fulfillment, but back in the physical world, she knew she had Genji’s impressive shaft above her, and his equally splendid balls just below her nose, resting against her lips. There was only one thing left to do, and she locked eyes with her husband one more time to make sure he knew what was coming.

Genji’s nod was all the encouragement she needed. Taking one more long drag of the skin of his scrotum, she tilted her head back, brushed her nostrils against the underside of the base of his dick, and let his balls slip between her lips. Angela had sucked on them many times, and each was as magnificent as the last. The duality of their sex life was made manifest in the act of mouthing Genji’s ballsack. It required near-total submission on her part to Genji taking charge and letting her know just how subservient she could be the man that had left her reeling every single time they fucked. But it also placed her in a position of unparalleled power. Genji’s pleasure was entirely dependent on her cooperation, and if things changed, she could stop or draw out the teasing, turning the tables of their dynamic.

She’d done it, more than once, when she’d decided to flip the script and have _him_ be on the back foot for the next orgasm, even if she was still enveloping her mouth on his length or balls. She had no plans to do that this time, but the fact that she _could_ was intoxicating, and enough to leave her content rubbing her thighs together instead of itching to pull off her pants and start taking her fingers to her slit.

Genji let loose a grunt as Angela gently pressed her teeth against the skin between his testicle and scrotum, his mechanical right hand sliding down to tangle softly in her hair. Nothing rough, but a reminder, and a good one: she didn’t want to drive him too wild, too quickly.

So when he spoke, she wasn’t sure how to react.

_“Treasured wife I love,_

_Kneeling before me, engrossed,_

_Anticipating.”_

Angela’s face _burned_ , blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment at his words. He was...he was actually doing this. It would seem ridiculous if it wasn’t so _hot_ , how Genji let slip a haiku with such complete confidence that it wouldn’t ruin the moment. And it didn’t. The fact that he was able to translate so much about this moment in so few words was impressive enough to leave her squirming, hands wriggling on his mechanical thigh and shin as he tapped her hair and pulled her off of his nuts. Gently and slowly, giving her the chance to drag her tongue along them as she moved off, but insistently enough that she was soon face-to-face with his dick.

_“Angela Ziegler,_

_Bold, beautiful, elegant,_

_Reverent and sweet.”_

His words being delivered in haiku didn’t detract from the intensity of his command, or the compulsion she felt to obey it. With another breath through her nose, Angela opened her mouth, enclosed her lips around his cockhead, and let his girth spread her lips wide as she sank her face onto his shaft.

She’d sucked Genji off more than a few times, and always enjoyed the experience. He’d never been too rough, and she knew she was talented enough that he fell to pieces at her ministrations. Now, though, there was an insistence to his action, an urgency, a coercion that she couldn’t get enough of. She wasn’t just swallowing his dick, feeling it trespass deeper into her mouth, her tongue dragging along the underside. No, he was _pushing_ her along, gently but firmly moving Angela, feeling her teeth drag along the folds of skin on his shaft, delighting in how she flicked and curled her tongue around what she could, even as it stayed buried in her mouth.

At last, Angela felt her nose touch the hair at the base of Genji’s dick once more, this time with something significantly bigger making a difference. She enclosed her lips around the base, planting a full-mouthed kiss around the root of the cock in her throat. If she’d been wearing lipstick, a ring of the evidence would have been visible at the very bottom of his girth, proof of her deepthroating capacity, but Angela would have to content herself with merely the knowledge of its occurrence. She took the opportunity to slip her tongue out from between her bottom teeth and the dick above them, flicking and prodding at Genji’s balls as best she could. The fullness in her throat was uncomfortable, and her eyes were watering, but Angela stayed, resilient, awaiting Genji’s signal to move.

_“You have done so well,_

_Now I, Genji Shimada,_

_Grant your deepest wish.”_

His hand pulled back on her hair, softly, guiding her off of his member until she was free, the thick cockhead slipping between her lips, giving her relief from the pressure in her throat. She could have taken more, but Genji had decided to move on, and if this was anything like she expected, she’d enjoy it.

Genji didn’t say anything, merely looked down at her, his mechanical arm extended so his robotic fingers could grip her golden hair. The silence had its own noise to it: Angela’s slightly labored breathing, the _drip-drip-drip_ of saliva and precum from her mouth and Genji’s dick and balls onto the floor, the _thump-thump-thump_ of either her heart or the blood coursing through Genji’s member. It was even more erect than before she’d deepthroated it, if that was possible.

And yet, Genji said nothing.

Clarity struck Angela like lightning. He was waiting for _her_ . He expected _her_ to continue. Should she start her own verse, or continue off of his? He had said it was best when continued naturally…

She didn’t know how the words came to her, but they did.

_“My hope, more than anything,_

_Involves your glorious cock in me_ now _.”_

A smile. She recognized that smirk, the little bit of Genji’s old days as a womanizer slipping through. He’d caught his mark, and now they could play.

_“And so shall it be,_

_Strip down and lie on your back,_

_Legs up, Angela.”_

Somehow, his directions being delivered in haiku worked her up even more, enough to get her up and at attention faster than she’d expected. She could barely get her pants off fast enough, her jeans suddenly seeming just a _bit_ too tight. It was likely just anticipation fumbling her fingers, but at least she knew her struggling was giving Genji a phenomenal view of her ass as her waist gyrated and swung from her efforts. When she was done, her jeans slipped off and jumbled on the ground, she was left with nothing but the bra and panties, miniscule scraps of yellow fabric that were all that stood between her and total nudity...although they covered almost nothing.

Still, they needed to go off, and Genji wasn’t in the mood for a show. Inclining his head, he grunted, and watched as Angela complied. Fingers slipped gracefully to undo her bra with a snap, then held her panties steady for her to step out of them, one long leg at a time, the fabric hugging her thighs, then her shins, until at last not a single scrap of clothing remained on her person.

Genji was well aware of how gorgeous Angela was, but every time he beheld her he was left awestruck once again that such a perfect woman had chosen him to be her husband, blessing them with such harmonious matrimony. She was beautiful to look upon, full-breasted with wide, grabbable hips, a taut rear, and brilliant ivory skin, but what struck him more was that she was also in possession of such a beautiful soul. Angela was kind, caring, patient and diligent, and so much more that he feared if he tried to list them all he’d lose track of what they were here to do

Still...he allowed himself a moment to bask in her radiance. Was this what the world had felt when Amaterasu had been coaxed out of her cave, blessing the world with the light it had been familiar with but had gone so long without? Genji could not say, but Angela had a way about her that rejuvenated his faith in such stories. How else could such a familiar sight as her naked body engender such awe in his heart? The only thing to do in such a situation was to pay proper reverence to his wife, who had elicited all of this.

Standing up, Genji stepped out of the pants around his ankles and pulled his shirt up and off, leaving him bare-chested except for the covering on his right side that connected to his arm. It had taken him no small effort to maintain control as Angela devotedly worshipped his balls and cock, and it showed in the perspiration dotting his chest, stomach and shoulder blades. But this was not the time for him to reflect on his exhaustion, for indeed he felt none. It was time to show Angela just how much she meant to him.

Seeing him upright, Angela slipped to her knees, then lay back so that her shoulders were taking the brunt of her weight. Lifting her legs and holding the back of her thighs to keep them steady, she spread them wide, framing her face with her knees and presenting her sex to him, glistening and ready and there for the taking. Genji could do nothing _but_ step forward, one hand on her left thigh, the other guiding his length towards her opening as he came down into a half-squat atop her.

_“I am here, Genji, and ready,_

_I beg of you, don’t keep me waiting.”_

He admired her concentration. She’d remembered to keep up the poem from before. Such consistency merited a faster, more fulfilling reward, and so Genji slipped the head of his length past her lips, feeling her stretch around his girth, sucking him in deeper as he went. The position was new—its “pile driver” appellation more fitting than he might have originally suspected— but the familiarity of the interaction helped move them steadily along. Slowly, gently, he allowed the pressure of her clutching lips to build around his cock, Angela’s tightness helping to hold him back from plunging in with reckless abandon. She’d gotten accustomed to taking his considerable length over the years of their relationship, and even more during their marriage, and that experience served her well as she accepted his dick into her at a new angle.

The struggles had its benefits, too: from above like this, the crown of Genji’s shaft was pressing against the top of Angela’s sex harder and deeper than it had ever before, dragging along parts of his shaft that had never been stimulated at this angle, and for Angela this manifested as a pointed, deliberate grinding against some of her most sensitive inner walls. The blood rushing to her head from her uneven posture left her feeling more lightheaded and flustered than she already would have been from having Genji stretching her out, but she was all too happy to pay the later price in dizziness if it meant she’d have more of this _now_.

At last, Genji hilted himself in her, burying his cock as deep as it would go, his balls resting against her upturned asshole and buttocks. He contemplated the sight below him, of his wife with her arms outstretched above her head, golden hair fanning out unevenly along the floor next to her forearms, her breasts and stomach heaving with her intakes of air. And, most of all, her blue eyes, calm and accepting and yet oh-so-determined, looking confidently back at his own, urging him to continue with silent pleas that her mouth couldn’t form, stuck as it was cooing and huffing.

_Good. This is good. Keep going._

Her legs were tilted so far towards her that, had she the presence of mind to, Angela could have leaned her head upwards and touched a toe with her nose. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking of such things and would much rather focus on Genji’s cock filling her up, and his hefty nuts laying against her skin, promising gifts of creamy cum.

With a grunt, Genji lifted his hips off of her, withdrawing his length inch by agonizingly girthy inch, biting his lip to keep from crying out as her inner walls slid and gripped at his sensitive cockhead. Angela felt the fullness lessen, but not vanish, and the emptiness deep in her cunt that she was used to during her workday yearned to be occupied by her husband.

He obliged her, jutting his hips forward and down much more quickly, driving and dragging his dick along the same path as before. Angela let out a hoarse yowl, but didn’t try to stop him, and couldn’t believe her luck when Genji started to rise and fall more and more quickly, plunging his shaft halfway in and halfway out at an increasingly rapid tempo.

This was all she wanted. She’d worshipped Genji with her mouth, and now Angela wanted to worship him with her slit. To be pounded and slammed into, fucked and rutted, made use of and laid into. Her breath rattled and hissed in rhythm with his uneven pace, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on.

Genji was already close from Angela’s attentive, masterful ministrations on his shaft and testicles, and in this experimental pose he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thighs ached, but he kept going, and he knew Angela’s legs were having it worse: her skin was already starting to redden from the rubbing and grinding of his legs and hips against her body.

 _Smack smack smack_ went his balls, slapping against Angela’s upturned rear, each jolt against her butt reminding them both of just what sort of climax this was building up to. The prodigious cumshots that they were both happily familiar with. Angela with receiving his in or on her, Genji with delivering them to her

 _Thud thud thud_ went Angela’s back against the floor, driven downward and forward by Genji’s relentless thrusting. Her muscles would ache after this, but it would be worth it. Genji’s pace was faster than she’d expected, but she could take it and she was happy he wasn’t treating her delicately, even if they were trying something they hadn’t before.

And, when they knew their time was up, a third sound joined the other two. A distinctive staccato of two voices mixing together, promising a pleasurable end.

“G-G-Genji!”

“An-An-Angela!”

Their voices hitched and stuttered as they kept up their pace, Angela pushing back against her husband as best he could, him speeding up his movements above and down into her. Her toes were now pressing into the ground besides her head, next to her outstretched forearms, and Genji was leaning over her, rather than simply half-standing.

When Angela came, she couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t conceive of a time when she _wasn’t_ getting wrapped around Genji’s length, eager and ready to accept whatever he had to give. Her legs cramped even harder than they already were, she saw stars, her hands clutched at the carpet, and she was left to focus entirely on the warmth blossoming into and out from her well-stimulated sex as her husband thrust and drove down into her while she climaxed.

When Genji came, when the pressure built to a tipping point and he was certain he could take no more, he found that yes, he could, he _could_ stave it off just a little bit longer and lay into his wife just a bit more, and then she was clutching and gripping and bearing down on him and no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his eyes off of Angela, off of her gasping mouth or her flushes skin, couldn’t avert his gaze from how she gushed and spasmed around his cock until he felt the heat fire forward and he was emptying his balls into her.

He held himself in deep, firing off one shot, then two as deep as he could, nuts tensing and twitching as he climaxed before he stood up slightly to withdraw his dick, with no small reluctance, from her oozing, twitching cunt. Still standing above her, he sighed and shot off again, a string of cream arcing to cover her left breast, then another landing on her chin and neck.

Genji felt as if his orgasm lasted forever, the strength draining from his body along with his load as his last few spurts of cream drizzled Angela’s stomach, cheek and the outside of her slit. Angela was doing little better, lying in a heap on the ground, limbs loose and useless as her body refused to expend any more energy. Genji indulged himself in a once-over of his wife’s exhausted form, marveling at how he’d painted so much of her skin white with his orgasm, to say nothing of how he’d filled up her slit like he’d been trying for a child.

They weren’t, at least not yet. That would come sooner rather than later, but not now. They would enjoy the moment, and not think of the future.

Angela slowly lowered the rest of her body into a supine position, legs flopping down onto the carpet as she let the blood return to her extremities. Despite how fatiguing that had been, Angela wouldn’t have traded it for anything. By how Genji was dropping to his knees and crawling over to her, she knew he agreed.

_“I will be so sore_

_In the morning, or sooner,_

_Totally worth it.”_

Genji murmured, brushing his lips against her shoulder, still playing the game.

 _“Oh, so_ you’ll _be sore? Ha, ha._

 _What about me ?_ _I was the taker.”_

Angela had wanted to respond in prose, but she couldn’t bring herself to end the chain, and had managed to form one last continuation to the poem. Genji let her know his appreciation with a peck on her shoulder blades as he snuggled up against her. He didn’t respond. The story had reached its conclusion.

They were both sweaty and tired, and she was covered in and filled with his cum, but that didn’t matter to them as they fell asleep on the carpet of their home together. As long as they had each other, and had more of this, they would be happy. White Day had come once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Another anniversary commemorated! Here's to another year to these two and their insatiable sexual appetite for each other!
> 
> The poetry was a bit out of my wheelhouse, but I wanted to do something more experimental. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I'll be reopening commissions later this month or early next month, after I finish a few personal writing projects. I'd be honored if you elected to follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke) and [ Hentai Foundry](http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Lewdsmokesoldier/profile)!


End file.
